Red in my Ledger
by BrokenKestral
Summary: Clint thinks Natasha's ledger is clean. Natasha isn't so sure. But they do agree on one thing. Friendship fic.


**Disclaimer: Nothing in this is mine; it's my first time writing for one of my favorite fandoms, and I'm hoping the characters won't be too OOC. Natasha's words are meant to be calm and pointed, no matter how worried she is inside. It takes place somewhere post Avengers, pre Civil War.**

* * *

_Can you? Can you wipe out that much red? Dracof's Daughter? Sal Paulo? The hospital fire? Barton told me everything. *Loki stands.* Your ledger is dripping, it's __gushing__ red..._

* * *

Clint was hit. Natasha swung herself over the railing, moving, up the stairs, pause, fire, up, the next landing, slipping under a punch, kicking the soldier off.

It was supposed to be easy. Break in, hack the computer, leave with the data. _Without_ anyone knowing.

Only someone else had tried the same thing, and they weren't as good as Clint and Nat. (They were dead when Natasha found them, Clint was shot through the _chest._) They set off the alarms. (Nat would put alarm systems on their _headstones_. And regularly set them off. As reminders.)

Now Clint was hit.

Up, up, up, three more levels, tucking the data stick away, then Nat went through the door and onto the roof.

Clint had been covering their escape. Now he was down, trying to put pressure on the bullet-hole, his hands already stained red.

"Let me see." She moved his hands with one of her own, using the other to take off her scarf and press it down.

She knew enough, had seen enough, to know he was hurt. Badly.

She wouldn't tell him that, even though he probably knew. "I think you earned a few months in the hospital."

"Not my favorite place for a vacation." Clint closed his eyes.

"Eyes open, Barton," Natasha commanded, pressing harder, and he winced, but his eyes flickered back open. Natasha reached up one red hand to her earpiece. "When's our extraction?"

"ETA three minutes," came the reply.

"Three minutes," Natasha told Clint. He was fighting to stay awake, she could see it. "Then a few months of boredom. Maybe they'll let you go home. You could get the porch railing done."

"Then the barn add-on, then-" Cilnt stopped, panting. She could hear it hurt him to breathe. "Nat, it's bad, isn't it?"

"You've had worse." He'd survived worse. Three minutes. She had to keep him here for three minutes.

"...or...s ...red," Clint muttered.

"What?" Keep him talking, keep him aware.

"Your hands are red," he said, a little louder. He half smiled. "Red with my blood..."

Natasha looked down. The blood had soaked the scarf. It welled through her fingers; it coated her hands.

A little bit more red that stained her. Even if it wasn't her fault, it was the life she lived.

She hated that it was Clint's blood.

Clint, who was grabbing her wrists. "Your ledger's clean," he told her. She thought of the battle with the Chitari, saving him, the few hundred other missions with the Avengers. Not enough to wipe everything away; Loki was right there, at least. But she'd agree with Clint if it kept him talking.

"If my ledger's clean, why are my hands still red?" She even managed a cool, small smile.

"It's all that's left," Clint said. "The blood's not a debt, it's a bond. The only blood in your ledger is ties to family."

He knew her, knew to read her sudden stillness as shock, a desperate fight for control. It's the one thing she wanted more than anything, the one thing he'd tried to give her with Laura and the kids, a _family_. It's what Fury tried to do with the Avengers.*

The one thing she wasn't quite ready to let herself have.

"No more debt left," he said again, but he let her wrists go. She hated being confined if she wasn't in control of herself.

He couldn't stay awake much longer, and Natasha was quiet. He woke in the med bay of the helicarrier; Natasha was sitting by his bedside, looking at her hands.

She was thinking about what he said. Family; she had known for years he was closer than anyone had ever gotten, but they were partners, not-

And the Avengers were a team. They worked together (sometimes). Other times they fought.

Like family did.

She didn't agree with Clint. She wasn't clean. But he could be right about the family. Speaking of Clint-

"I hope you brought me a project to work on," the man beside her said hazily. He was blinking at her.

"I set up the shooting range as an obstacle course," she said. "Your next project is going to be learning how to dodge better." She leaned forward and took his hand. "Three days," she said softly. "Then I'll take you home." She hesitated. "You're on two months medical leave after," she added. "I - could stay there. I've got some leave."

"You'd have to help with the porch, But Laura would be glad to see you." He yawned, curling on his side like he always did when this tired. When he was hurting. "You never stayed for that long before. Why now, Nat?"

She knew if she said them he'd hold her to them, but maybe, maybe this time he was right. "It's what family does, Clint."

OOOOO

*This idea isn't mine; I got it from Pinterest, where someone pointed out Fury was so determined to get his adopted daughter Natasha a family that he put together the Avengers. I may not hold with that 100%, but it doesn't mean I didn't like the idea. :)


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